Aithne shook her head. "I spoke of it as others will. For myself, I call it a blessing. There are very few prophets left in the world today."

Having finished her herbs, she stood, brushed her skirt off, and took up a basket of mending. With so many rough-and-tumble types in the place, the basket was rather large. What with one thing and another, the girls who usually mended were unable to catch up to the post-battle influx. Aithne had gladly offered to help, and so now she sat a little closer to the firelight, stitching up holes and rips and working to make the clothing once more worthy of the men that wore it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cathair began to feel that if he stayed as he was much longer, he'd either fall asleep or else grow grouchy.

So he stood up, patted his leg for Cu to follow, and headed towards the door. He made sure to catch Aithne's eye before they left, though. He didn't want her panicking.

Outside, he ruffled the fur on the dog's head. "What do you think of a run, Cu? Work off some of that extra energy? Hm?" Cu barked what seemed an energetic agreement, and so the two set off down the path. Cathair had no clear idea of where he was going, but he figured a ramble wouldn't be a bad thing...